by RG Long
"GRAH!" Rosha shouted and made herself known.
The Red Knight turned her way and swung his sword down and to the side. The wind followed, and she tripped down as the weight of his power blasted into her back. Her spear was out and forward. She was just out of range of his longsword and massive reach, but he was still not within hers.
She waited just a moment, long enough to seem vulnerable, as the Red Knight approached her instead. He held his sword up and reversed it in his grip, tip pointed down, in an execution position. Visions of her parents, on their bellies like her, stabbed through the back, met her mind. Her courage wavered from the fear. She felt fire come from above.
"You have to prove them wrong," Garis said.
His voice, and his warning, was so fresh in her mind then that she thought she heard it for real, and she could not disappoint the one who taught her the most valuable maneuver she could ever master.
She flicked the spear, flange up, between the Red Knight's legs. It surprised, but did not deter him. Then, she dug her legs up and rolled back, scraping the rest of the shaft along his inner thigh until the blade hit and sank into somewhere unseen beneath the furls of red mangle that covered him from below. His heavy plate covered everywhere but his most mobile joints, and even there, his chainmail was not as thick as around his torso.
The Red Knight took two blows, one minor and one shocking, which stayed his hand for just a moment, long enough for Rosha to escape away with her spear in hand to get back to her feet.
The Red Knight's sword plunged into the ground and scorched the grass black in an instant. That was it for his reeling. She noticed that only a light brush of blood was on the bent flange of her spear. All she could do with the attack was prolong her death.
The Red Knight glared at her. Unlike Darrion, she did not meet his eyes with matching intensity. She wavered before him and showed her fear, but she did not look away. The fear built up more and more until she saw her death in flames surrounding her and she stomped her feet down to face it with her spear up, aimed right at the Red Knight's eyes. She held it steady like she was measuring to see if the tip was long and narrow enough to fit through the eye slots of his armor.
"Rosha!" Darrion exclaimed.
He recovered and picked up some rocks from the ground. He tossed a few the Red Knight's way, but only one reached to bounce off his sturdy helmet.
"Keep him busy!"
The Red Knight gave Darrion but a glance, then looked away to the east. He saw a clash occurring in the distance with his other riders. The company he sent forward met another, ones riding white horses with shining armor.
The King's Guard had arrived.
While he was distracted, Rosha stabbed at him from the side and poked her spear at his helmet. It did not pierce him. He grabbed it with a swift hand and threw it, butt first, back into her shoulder, knocking her over.
"It is destined," the Knight rumbled.
He sheathed his sword over his back and returned to his patient horse. Darrion rushed over to Rosha, who reeled on the ground in pain. Both looked up and watched the Knight mount up, leaving his guards behind, as he turned to rejoin his fellows and begin their retreat.
They lost their battle, but kept their lives. And so they survived, knowing the shame of defeat twice-over at the hands of the Red Knight. As he left, Darrion burned the image of his crimson back into his mind and made him his mortal enemy. His soul burned with a renewed, singular purpose.
Chapter 24
THE KING'S GUARD OF Grannitewatch arrived days after their summoning at the hands of Oldrum's Prince. Their initial call to reinforce the town guard following the theft of the royal scepter turned into a deathly encounter with the Red Corsairs, and a temporary victory as they routed them to the east towards reinforced countryside just outside of Ravenmere. Before they could return, however, they had to make their reports.
There were only three survivors of Oldrum accounted for. All in the castle were dead, down to the last woman and child hiding in the castle stores. The town was obliterated under the siege of fire. All of their aid fell upon the three survivors, whose testimony they took as the only accurate record of the town's final moments.
The acting captain of the regiment kept himself close to the boy and girl who were natives to the town. The other one, in his strange robes, had fainted and went in and out of consciousness rapidly, as the fall had given him a bruise on his skull that needed tending by professionals in the capital. He took pity on the two who went through so much. They even went so far as to contest with the Red Knight of rumors.
"It's not to say I don't believe you," the captain spoke, "but the Red Corsairs, as they were, are not recognized by the House Leaders as a legitimized threat. They exist, yes, and we can attest to that through our own accounts in concert with yours. What remains to be seen is their purpose in these lands or, more pressingly, their place of origin."
"I've explained as best I can," Darrion said.
He was tired from talking and hurt from the fighting. The Red Knight even rode away with his dagger still lodged in his armor. He didn't even have that as a proof of his strength, the red tip of the one blow he landed against the slayer of his hometown.
"Everything I've said is my own account of what we've done and seen in the past few days, starting with the scepter theft."
"Aladorn can agree to it as well," Rosha said, "once he wakes up."
"A threefold testimonial will suffice for reports," the captain said. "However, events as reported, and the truth, are two different things. We will investigate as we can and work to corroborate your accounts as the de facto explanation."
"The outpost on the opposite hill," Darrion added, "that place also has proof of our claims. The treasure trove, the bandits - although, if any survived, they'd have run off with the treasure."
"As this thief, you've attested to did with the scepter."
"Yes," Darrion said, his voice darkened with grief.
The captain could see the sincerity of Darrion's remorse in his sinking posture.
"We will pass through Ravenmere," the captain said, "under the assumption, these Corsairs will not immediately sack it in their passing. Even if they try, it is a much hardier and defensive settlement as one of the Lord Houses than your home was. You will be safe there for some time."
"Kell could be there," Rosha said. "If we find her, the scepter can be returned to the main house."
Rosha spoke to Darrion, to try and stir him from his darkened state, but it didn't work. Something else provoked him to stand, something which lit a fire in his eyes.
"I should like to come with you," Darrion said. "To join the King's Guard at whatever entry you may afford me."
"What's that?" the captain asked. Rosha stood up as well and tugged at Darrion's sleeve to take his attention away from his impassioned state.
"To join the King's Guard," Darrion repeated. "I have seen this enemy in person and witnessed his terror. From rumor to reality, I have observed his power and the sway which he holds over faithless bandits. And I know what I told you is completely true, and I cannot rest knowing these evils are being perpetrated upon towns like mine, anywhere, under any house, under such appalling reasons. I have no home left, no future, and no family. I have only a single purpose remaining in my life, and I refuse to be denied it."
The captain squared himself up with Darrion and stared into his eyes. He saw a young lad, barely an adult in age, and counted him physically adequate on sight, with a century worth of hatred boiling him from the inside out. It was hatred beyond even vengeance. It was a pure, bright flame, fueled with anger but brightened by hope. A flame of justice. A noble reason to fight.
"Very well," the captain said.
Rosha looked surprised. Darrion calmed the flickering within him and bowed.
"After stopping through Ravenmere to hand your testimony down to the local Lord of the House, you shall return with us to Grannitewatch. I will handle your adoptions into the order. F
rom then on, you shall train to become as guards for the King. If he’ll have you, that is."
"Thank you," Darrion said.
The captain turned away as his men waved him down from up the hill.
"I hope you will not disappoint," he said.
He left the two to each other. All the pep and spunk that kept Darrion up to face the captain wore out, and he slowly lowered himself back to the ground.
"This isn't how I wanted to leave," Darrion said.
"Me neither," Rosha said.
"We can search for Kell another time," Darrion decided. "One day, I'm sure she will face justice for her actions. But all she did was steal a trinket. She did not steal our families or our home from us."
"I know," Rosha admitted. They held each other closely. Rosha felt the warmth from Darrion's chest. It was comforting at first, but then it turned into a dangerous burning heat. Like the fires that consumed her home, the same fire burned in him.
They left Oldrum for good that day but carried the memory inside of them forever.
Author’s Note
THIS SERIES IS THE beginning of a new adventure for me! I began writing fantasy with a grand story about elves and goblins and dwarves and magic. This was supposed to be a drastically different story.
When you take away fantastic monsters and mystic creatures, you’re left with people. Rosha, Aladorn, and Darrion are new characters that have been really exciting for me to write.
I hope this was a story that’s both refreshing, fast-paced, and exciting! There’s a lot more to the story we’ll experience together in the Lord’s Realm world. I hope you’re as excited as I am to go on this journey together!
-RG Long
The Adventure Continues
“THE ROGUE’S SPELL” will be available on November 17,2020 on continues the story of Rosha, Darrion, and Aladorn.
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The Rogue’s Spell
“MY LIFE I GIVE TO SERVE our queen!”
Rosha and Darrion have fulfilled their desire: to become members of the King’s Guard. But they’ve discovered that a soldier’s lot in life is less than ideal. Especially when the queen sees her husband’s army as disposable.
Yet the death of the king’s personal guard on the steps of the castle throws the soldiers into action. Vengeance is on the lips of the king as he begins a campaign that may force Rosha and Darrion to risk more than their own lives.
The threat of war lingers over the Realm of Lords.
Chapter 1
THE SOUNDS OF METAL clanking together filled the large courtyard. Sweat beaded down on tired faces, mixing in with the blood and dirt, only to be dried shortly after. Many wanted to avoid the rays of the sweltering heat of the sun, but the soldiers were not so fortunate.
Rosha glanced down at the dulled blade in her hands, the weight starting to be too heavy to hold. She didn’t need to look beside her to know that Darrion was just as tired as she was. She’d lost count of how many hours they had been out here without a break, ordered to hit the wooden dummies until told to stop.
She wondered if they had been forgotten, left to hit dummies in the furthest corner of the fields. The smell of the stable filled her nose, and she resisted the urge to run. The familiar smells of the stable only brought back haunted visions and memories she wished would leave her as she took another swing.
If only they were assigned elsewhere. If only a breeze would come from the forest.
No, there was no reason to think about those things. It didn’t matter what was thrown at her, she would become a soldier, and she would have her revenge on the Red Knight and his Corsairs. She gripped the dull sword tighter in her hand, anger running through her veins as she swung at the dummy. She would get stronger.
“How... are you... not tired?” Darrion wheezed.
“I wasn’t the one who was running around in the dead of night.”
For just a moment, Darrion let his sword rest at his side as he looked over to her.
“Fair, he said.
“It feels so different here. Sometimes I forget that we’re in the capital right now. It feels like only yesterday we were still in Oldrum.”
Two months had passed since they had ridden off with the captain of the guard sent to aid Oldrum in their time of need. Since they watched their city burn to the ground. Since they fought the knight who continued to terrorize the countryside.
Darrion gripped his sword, resuming his rhythmic slashing of the wooden dummy, “If it weren’t for...”
“Aladorn! What news do you bring?”
The young mage dropped from the tree and landed in the training field, ruffling Rosha’s hair, “I expected a fairer greeting, Rosha. No ‘good to see you?”
Rosha stuck her tongue out at him as she fixed her hair back and continued the movements they have been shown for the day.
“We’re supposed to be training right now. If we were seen slacking off... it wouldn’t be pretty. The King trains the army, and he doesn’t accept slackers.”
“Perhaps that’s true. I wonder if you’ve noticed that your training is getting more difficult as of late. Haven’t you?”
Rosha nodded, a feeling of unease washing through her.
“There’s been rumors of a warrior who has been pillaging cities and towns all over the Lord’s realm.”
“That’s nothing new,” Darrion huffed.
“It is when all the guards sent to stop him do not return. I was hoping that you two would have heard more about this. Some of the soldiers must know something, after all, not everyone who is sent to deal with him ends up dead. Some have joined him and his ranks grow every day.”
“We’ll try to see if anyone knows anything, but what does this have to do with us?” Rosha asked.
“Witnesses say that he moves through the shadows. He comes out when he’s about to strike, his armor the color of blood and fire follows him wherever he strikes.”
Rosha paled.
“Are you saying?”
“I’m pretty sure that its the Red Knight we’ve been looking for. He’s certainly powerful enough to destroy a village. Though the guards who rescued us were quite keen to say he’d left the countryside, it doesn’t appear to be the case.”
“Bastard! If he’s really here...” Darrion cut in.
“We should talk to the other soldiers before we make any hasty decisions. We have to be sure first.”
The cold morning air sent shivers down their spines. The sun hadn’t even risen, and the city was buzzing with energy. Training started before dawn and often lasted well into the night.
Darrion yawned, ever since Aladorn showed up, they tried to find out more about the missing soldiers and why training was getting to be worse and worse. The barracks were slowly getting emptier and they knew that something was wrong. As they made their way to receive their morning meal of mush and bread, there were whispers all around the stone building.
Was the Red Knight out there now? Who were the Corsairs he traveled with? Were there some still at the training camp?
The heads of the training ground spoke out, saying that they were merely baseless rumors, but were they really?
Rosha chewed on her lower lip, would they even be able to put up a fight? They were training to the point where they were about to collapse, and if there were an attack on the training ground, it would be devastating.
She splashed some cold water on her face, shaking off yesterday's exhaustion, and went to find Darrion. His blond hair was easy
to spot, and she made her way over to him. Just as she sat down next to him, a soldier covered in blood tore through the halls.
“Sir Francis is dead!”
Sharing a look, they made their way in the opposite direction of the running soldier. Sir Francis was one of the king’s own personal guards, and when he wasn’t training recruits, he was at the castle. The gray stones were splashed with the blood the soldier was leaving behind. Not many were awake at this point, but there was already a group forming on the stairs.
The stench of blood was getting stronger. Sure enough, a pale corpse laid on the steps. It was Sir Francis. The man’s sword hadn’t even been drawn, meaning whoever snuck upon him was very skilled.
The king burst through the doors and paled at seeing Sir Francis on the stairs. The maroon and gold robes he wore were the colors of his house. A sword piercing a circle with a crown above it was stitched over his breast. Dark hair fell uncombed down his front as he took in the scene. His face flamed with unbridled fury.
“I want this Red Knight found and killed!”
Rosha and Darrion exchanged another look. Apparently the rumors their heads had told them to ignore had been heeded by the king.
Immediately, the training ground sprang into action, preparing for war. They had no idea how large the company of the Corsairs would be, and with their skills, it would be better to take more on the safe side.
Rosha balled her hands into fists. She felt powerless. They hadn’t trained for long, but now they were going to have to face the man who slaughtered their entire town. The man she had managed to wound, but not kill.
Had she learned enough? Trained enough yet to take on this villain again?